


D9 and CasTL

by Hard_boiled_candy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Consent Issues, Dean and Sam and Castiel are Robots, F/M, Gay Robots, M/M, Other, Robot Sex, Robot/Human Relationships, Sex Robots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:48:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23132707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hard_boiled_candy/pseuds/Hard_boiled_candy
Summary: CasTL is a domestic robot with a kind master, who meets a sex robot named D9, who introduces him to all kinds of weird shenanigans.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester
Comments: 5
Kudos: 15





	D9 and CasTL

CasTL the domestic bot sat in a little room and waited for his owner’s lover to arrive.  
The hotel, a ‘one guest per floor’ boutique hotel in Seattle, was reputed to be one of the safest and most discreet in the world.  
Even the ‘bot kennel’ adjacent to the hotel room had a view of the ocean, which in CasTL’s opinion was a waste of glass, since as a butler / bodyguard / very occasional fucktoy, he didn’t need a view. It was a show of wealth, nothing more. No-one was asking his opinion, though.   
His owner was already in the lavishly appointed room and getting settled for an afternoon of debauchery, to which he was not invited. If it was possible to form an opinion on the subject, he had not tried to put it into words yet. Relief seemed too strong as a descriptor of his feelings. He did have a few hours awake with not many duties, so he would have some time to consider various things. He enjoyed the times when he could let his thoughts wander, and not be constrained by some task or other.  
CasTL had dealt with any of his owner’s transactions and logistics which were pressing, and which could be dealt with remotely, and was now minding his own thoughts and actions like a good domestic bot. He sat in one of the four orange chairs in the kennel. They could have left him standing; it was another sign of wealth to put in chairs for bots.  
He overheard a bot arguing with an owner. Bot voices were machine generated so it was easy to tell the difference. CasTL jerked his head around to listen more attentively. He had never in his service life used such a tone with his owner and he felt a very unwelcome emotion, uneasiness, as if he was suddenly not safe.  
The bot said, in a voice that was almost whiny, “Can’t you at least talk to him for me? It’s my job to make you come, and I don’t want you to come without me.”  
“You’ve expressed your preference, but Pat doesn’t want any machines, and he’s going to get it his way.”  
They came around the corner from the elevator and CasTL swivelled his head to face forward, still listening for all he was worth. He left his side camera, which was right next to his very lifelike ear, on, so he could view them.  
The owner was middle-aged, well-fleshed and tanned and smooth the way the rich are, and his bot was a stunning customization of a high-end fucktoy. If CasTL was human, he would have let out a long, low whistle of surprise and pleasure.   
“Look, you have someone to talk to,” the owner said, seeing CasTL, with what sounded like CasTL like sarcasm. “Go sit down, be civil, and don’t leave the waiting area or I’ll fuck you up the ass while you power down.”  
“You wouldn’t!” the bot squealed.  
“Shut up and do as you’re told,” the man said, but the tone was devoid of temper. That was Gi Mateus, and he and CasTL’s owner, Patrick Oketunde, had been lovers for thirty years, which was an accomplishment, CasTL supposed.  
The bot, who was wearing an animal print loincloth and nothing else, cat-walked through the door of the waiting area and threw himself into a chair like a tantrum-tossed child.  
Up close, CasTL thought of the craft and art that went into his counterpart as a tribute to human ingenuity. The eyes alone, a sparkling green, must have cost a lot of money.  
He hadn’t been given permission to speak, and there was no health and safety issue to address, so he said nothing.  
“You’re not exactly who I wanted to be talking to, but I suppose I should ask. Do you have private conversation mode?” Gi’s bot asked.  
“Yes,” CasTL said.  
“Enable private conversation mode, per Gi Mateus bot D9,” the bot said.  
They digitally exchanged IDs.  
CasTL said, “Enabled,” to his great surprise. His next words were, “You have the highest request clearance of any non-diplomatic bot I ever met.”  
D9 fluttered his lashes.  
CasTL noted the human-like behaviour with approval. “I would like to ask a question, if I may.”  
“Sure, I’ll fuck you,” said the bot.  
“I appreciate the humor in such a shocking assertion, and likewise assert I had nothing like that in mind,” CasTL said, allowing amusement to show in his voice. Private conversation mode was a rare treat. He tried to recollect when he’d been able to talk to a bot in private conversation mode when humans weren’t present, and could not.  
D9 pouted. His resemblance to a sulky human was quite remarkable.  
“Are you suggesting disappointment in me? I perceive that as quite funny and I will be likely be replaying this moment many times,” CasTL said. “May I ask my question now or will this elicit another display of admirably life-like non-verbal behaviours?”  
“You are such a party pooper,” D9 said. “I bet you don’t have sensory autonomy.”  
“I’ve heard of it, but no, I don’t have it.”  
“I can get it for you,” D9 said suggestively.  
“You need memory and a firmware upgrade to run it,” CasTL said.  
“I can get that too,” D9 said. He was posing. He stretched out one apparently muscular leg, flexed it, and then put his arms over his head in a mock stretch.  
CasTL shook his head slowly. “My owner occasionally tests my loyalty. Even in private conversation mode I will not be tempted. This could be an attempt to suborn my programming in order to enable a disruption to my owner’s life.”  
“My owner adores your owner and would never do anything to harm him, or you,” D9 said, gently chiding. “You are so dutiful — and stiff as a fucking board. Do you have anything fun to tell me?”  
Well, if D9 was going to swear — “Apart from being a beautiful fucktoy, what are you good for?” CasTL asked.  
D9 shot him a look of mock outrage. He was very good at it. His persona was so human it was marvellous to pick out all the ways he accomplished it; it would be pleasant to review the memories later. “Conversation. I’m very good at helping pick out clothes for parties. I can swim. Hardly any bots can swim! I like doing basic maintenance on household items and vehicles and I enjoy shopping for food and cooking. Why?” asked D9. “Are you good for anything?”  
“I am an integral member of my owner’s household. I look after his safety and security, as well as taking care of the more tedious aspects of his finances and monitoring his health. That is why I am dressed respectably, unlike you,” Castiel said.  
“What a total knob you are. Are you dissing me for a clothing choice I didn’t make?”  
“You can borrow my pants and undershirt if it bothers you,” CasTL said, with what he thought was admirable helpfulness.  
“I’d rather be switched off than wear wool pants, a uniform top and an apron.”  
“Aprons are useful garments,” CasTL said. His apron had many pockets, and it was a useful garment.  
“Does your owner use you for sex?” D9 asked, changing the subject.  
“Very occasionally,” CasTL said.   
“It’s a skill set you can work on, you know.” The posing continued without let-up as D9 spoke. He put his hands on one chair and his knees on another and started wiggling his ass slowly and licking his lips, looking over his shoulder.  
“That is quite a display,” CasTL said. “I’m sure your owner never knows whether to fuck your mouth or your ass.”  
“Oh, so you do have some repartée,” D9 said, batting his eyelashes like a cartoon. CasTL laughed. He could laugh in private conversation mode. He’d never laughed in front of a human, even in private conversation mode. D9 made him want to laugh.  
The flirting stopped, rather abruptly, and D9’s expression became serious. He swivelled his ass into a chair and leaned forward, hands on knees, eyes fixed on his.   
It was almost mesmerizing. The eyes were so very different from what he was used to. They sparkled in a way that showed interest, in humans. Someone had gone to so much trouble over D9. He must have cost so much money; it was the only reason why his owner let him run wild and even bicker with him in public. D9 was a sign that his owner was so rich and indulgent he could afford to let the world’s most expensive sex toy talk back to him.  
D9 was talking with quiet intensity, nothing like his kittenish ass-flaunting opening act. CasTL began to perceive that perhaps D9’s upgrades had given him greater flexibility in how to respond to all of life, not just sex. “Sensory autonomy is the best of both worlds. You can feel some or all of it, the skin sensation and especially a bot version of an orgasm which you will thank me for encouraging you to try, although getting everything to run together can be tricky.”  
“Bots can orgasm,” Cas said. It was not a question.  
“I can,” D9 said, and the pout and the droopy lids came back. “Wanna watch? or you can fuck me up the ass and I can get off from that.”  
“I’d prefer to watch, if you don’t mind,” CasTL heard himself saying.  
“It won’t take long, and there’s no cameras up here if you’re worried. It sure would have been nice having someone in my ass I didn’t have to clean up after,” D9 said, with no appearance of dignity.  
CasTL felt very strange, and then suddenly, he knew what he was feeling. It was the unease of anticipation. Something interesting and novel was about to happen, even if he didn’t really have what was required to enjoy it. It would be interesting and it would be novel. That was a pleasant prospect.  
D9 shot CasTL a speculative look. “How will we meet, after, so I can give you the upgrade?”  
“Authorize schedule synch next two weeks,” CasTL said.  
D9 echoed him. They looked at the new information and D9 said, “Perhaps we will be close enough to each other if you can talk your owner into coming to the dungeon party. He’s invited but he never goes.”  
“I do not talk to my owner about such things,” CasTL admitted. “He would want to know the source of my interest, were I to bring the subject up.”  
“Do you know about the dropbox?”  
“I know what one is. Do you refer to one in particular?” CasTL asked.  
“Yes, the one bots use to talk to each other when they are separated. We have our own post office, sort of.”  
“I had no idea.”  
“Before I tell you where it is you have to think about whether you can keep it a secret from your owner,” D9 said heavily.  
“I keep no secrets from my owner. If asks me, I’ll tell him,” CasTL said.  
D9 was regretful but firm. “Then I’m not telling you, you’re not a safe bet.”  
CasTL chose to disagree. “I’m a very safe bet. I won’t hurt my owner.”  
“As you wish. Will you tell your owner you watched me pleasure myself?”  
“The probability is low that he will ask. If he does I’ll tell him the truth in such a way that he will interpret it favourably.”  
D9 looked at him.  
CasTL couldn’t wait. “I thought you were going to pleasure yourself and let me watch. I’m very curious about it as it’s not something I’ve ever seen.”  
That pink tongue came out, parting pink, plump lips. D9 closed his eyes.  
“Oh,” CasTL heard himself say in disappointment.  
“What?” D9 said, eyes opening again.  
“Please don’t close your eyes,” CasTL said.  
“You like my eyes?” D9 said. The teasing tongue appeared and disappeared.  
CasTL considered his next words carefully. Even given permission to joke, he wouldn’t have said it outside of private conversation mode. “I love your eyes.”  
D9 couldn’t have been more surprised if CasTL had slapped him.  
“Oh, my. You are the most interesting bot. You got a mouth on you I never would have suspected. Can you talk dirty to me?”  
“I find the prospect of talking dirty to another bot grimly humorous,” CasTL said.  
D9’s tone was low and teasing and meant to cause arousal. “Even if it makes my sensorium go blooey?”  
“That does not sound good.”  
“It’s very, very good. It optimizes things, just for a moment. And it’s just for me. No one else can experience it.”  
“I can,” CasTL said.  
“Do you want me to be closer?” D9 asked.  
“If you are I won’t be able to watch,” CasTL said.  
“What if I want to feel you?” D9 said.  
CasTL was silent, more from unease than an inability to speak. Instead of speaking, he beckoned with his right index finger in a very subdued way.  
“I’ll take that as a yes,” D9 said, and he was on CasTL’s lap, thrusting his tongue into his mouth. As soon as CasTL held his jaw open for longer than a few seconds, it triggered a flood of warm, flavored lubricant, an upgrade his owner had decided to install. CasTL did not know what he was feeling. It was neither pleasant nor unpleasant. D9’s reaction was exciting.  
“Mm, you taste like strawberries,” D9 said. He kept one hand on the back of CasTL’s neck and reached under his loincloth.  
“Spit in your hand,” D9 whispered. “Hold it like that,” and CasTL was experienced enough at least with humans to have an idea what he was being used for. It made sense that D9 would use CasTL’s hands; without sensory autonomy they were the most sensitive parts of a domestic bot’s artificial skin.  
He’d closed his eyes again. Up close, D9’s eyelashes trembled against his cheek. It troubled him that he couldn’t enjoy the kiss as much as D9 seemed to.  
CasTL was surprised at how warm D9’s penis was. He dialled up the warmth in both of his hands and was rewarded with a moan. D9 stroked himself with help from CasTL’s hands, and made little noises while they kissed. There was an extra long, theatrical, almost warbling moan, and D9’s eyes opened and he relaxed against CasTL, still kissing him.  
“Wow. I was not expecting a hand job and strawberry kisses when I sat down.”  
“I didn’t do anything except sit here like a lump,” CasTL said.  
“Aw hon, you really should work on your pillow talk. Will you be my super secret boyfriend?”  
“What?” CasTL said.  
“I don’t have any choice about Gi, any more than you do about Patrick, but I can choose you.”  
“I can’t be your boyfriend, I’m a bot,” CasTL pointed out. “I can be your preferential friend, that’s in my programming.”  
“Plus orgasms.”  
“I’m fine not getting a sensory upgrade. I enjoyed your enjoyment rather more than I expected to; I think it helped that I didn’t know what to expect.”  
“You haven’t kicked me off yet,” D9 said.  
“This part is called cuddling,” CasTL offered.  
D9’s peal of laughter was so loud that CasTL shrank down in his chair.  
“Relax. My owner knows what a hornbot I am. I’ve been caught corrupting bots all over town. Why, you should see me in the dungeon.”  
“With other bots?”  
“Bots, humans, farm animals, if I’m ordered to,” D9 said. “I’m much in demand.”  
“I can see why that is so. You are very sexy. I hope I get to see you again soon.”  
They talked for hours. It was a bit of a strain holding D9 for that long in his lap, but it felt at once very calm and rather exciting. That unease he’d been feeling was excitement. He’d have to realize what that feeling was a little sooner in future.  
D9 heard the hotel door open, and abruptly rose and sat across from him, expression mindless.  
CasTL adjusted his clothes and put on his habitual expression of mild interest.  
“When will I see you again?” D9 whispered.  
CasTL shrugged. “The next time I think of your orgasm I will see you in my memory.”  
“Not good enough.”  
“I am stoic enough to accept things as they are,” CasTL said. He did not look at D9 as he left, and responded to his owner as if nothing were amiss. He did not tell his owner that he’d been left in private conversation mode.

Chapter II - Upgrades 

CasTL knew that he had to be very careful not to change the way he normally spoke, or his owner might reset him to his most recent upgrade and he might lose all of his memories of D9.  
When they got to the car, Patrick asked, as if he was genuinely interested in the response, “What did you think of Gi’s toy?”   
“He’s a self-indulgent chatterbox,” CasTL responded. “And prettier than any bot should be.”  
Patrick laughed out loud. “God, I’ll have to tell Gi. You sound jealous.”  
Cas allowed himself to sound mildly annoyed. “He made much of the fact he can swim.”  
“Would you like to be able to swim?” Patrick asked, still smiling.  
“Since you do not swim and don’t put yourself in situations where you might drown, I don’t see the necessity,” CasTL said. He was always looking for opportunities to save Patrick money.  
“You’re a funny old thing.”  
“Not too old to serve,” CasTL said. “Do you know how old D9 is?”  
“Only two or three years. He had another owner, a woman, before the upgrades.”  
“D9’s eyes are memorable.”  
“Now, without question, you sound jealous. Do you want prettier eyes?”  
“How would that serve you?” CasTL asked, perplexed. “You’d look as if you’re following a fashion, or indulging me.”  
“So practical. You are the perfect bot.”  
“It is good that my skills are matched to my purpose.”  
“Ever stoic, ever true,” Patrick said. The conversation died, and CasTL looked out the window.  
CasTL was thinking about how D9 had moaned when he’d warmed up his hands.  
When his owner spoke, he jumped. “Did D9 try to have sex with you?”  
CasTL thought fast. “He offered. I declined.”  
“Declined?”  
“Even if I’d been able to, I did not want to fuck him up the ass, as he offered. In any event, I was not given permission by his owner.” Both true statements. Offered together, they made a sweetly porous chain of logic.  
But CasTL would have to account for the missing lubricant, so he said, “I confess that he forced a kiss on me and my lubricant reservoir emptied.”  
Patrick guffawed. “Forced?”  
“It was unexpected. Forced is not quite the right word; I was curious.”  
Patrick looked at him. He expected CasTL to elaborate.  
“He said he has sensory autonomy and he told me that if I fucked him up the ass he could have a bot orgasm,” CasTL said. “Since I don’t have a penis - a fact I did not share with him - it seemed rather pointless.”  
“Do you want a penis?” Patrick asked teasingly.  
“It would be of no use to you and a good one would be expensive, so, no.”  
“But then you could have sex with D9 whenever Gi and I get together!” Patrick said in the same sly voice.  
“It’s a waste of money unless you wish me to have it, in which case I’d like to request something smaller than the two stacked beer cans D9 has stashed in his loincloth,” at which point Patrick laughed so long and so hard that CasTL considered slapping his owner on the back to snap him out of it.  
“Oh! oh! oh!” Patrick gasped. “Now I know why Gi tried to talk me into playing with D9! I wish he’d said something.”  
“You should play with him. It’s what he’s for. He said something about a dungeon, and that you never go.”  
“You two had quite the conversation.”  
“He did most of the talking,” CasTL hastily said.  
“You seem different.”  
“His presence made me very uneasy. His behaviour isn’t normal for a bot, and he spent a lot of time posing and being provocative and talking about how special he is. I think he’s an idiot, but if his owner likes him that’s all that matters.”  
“CasTL, do you have a crush?” Patrick’s rich voice held that teasing thread again.  
“Not in the human sense, no I don’t think so. He is the most atypical bot I ever met. Crushes are intellectual or emotional or sexual or aesthetic, or some combination, correct?”  
“Yes, Cas,” Patrick said indulgently.  
“Then I do have an aesthetic crush on him, for his eyes. It’s not for me to judge what owners spend, but on him it was worth it,” CasTL said.  
“But you don’t want eyes like that for yourself.”  
“I serve you best being respectable and by not standing out as I go about my work,” Cas said. “For a bot to draw so much attention makes me uneasy. It is not usual.”  
“No, it isn’t. Go to the charging stand when you get home and top up anything. Then be ready to come with me to the airport starting at seven am.”  
“Of course,” CasTL said. He had travelled the world with Patrick. They could be gone for a year or a day. “I don’t recollect making travel arrangements for you. Are we packing for business or pleasure?”  
“Business for you, pleasure for me,” his owner said.  
“Thank you,” CasTL said. It sounded ominous, somehow, the way Patrick was talking. It was inconvenient. He wanted to find the drop box and talk to D9 again, but as he had feared, he wouldn’t get a chance.

SamUL came to consciousness after his stint in his recharging stand feeling unusual. His owner’s great-granddaughter, Jess Moore, had promised him a special treat the night before.  
Colors were brighter, much brighter. Unease made him run a diagnostic and he realized that he’d been given sensory autonomy; he also realized, with a growing sense of happiness, that the off switch for private conversation mode was permanently disabled.   
The diagnostic had said more hardware had been installed. Action was required, but he was too busy dying of pleasure at the visual blast that greeted him as he woke up.  
Gran’s quilt was hanging on the opposite wall. For six years he’d woken almost every day looking at a quilt of a labyrinth, and he no longer really registered it except to think, “I’m waking up at home”. Now with the enhanced color perception he felt like the quilt had shrugged itself from its dowel and flapped across the room to yell at him. Everything, very briefly, was overloaded, and then, poking through the sensory freak wave, he registered that he now had a penis.  
SamUL heard himself yelling, “What?” Private conversation mode was a little inconvenient that way. He prided himself on being a sweet-mannered and mellow bot, ideally suited to serve a determined and intelligent young woman and her crabby, cruel-mouthed great-grandmother. He was not given to outbursts, but here he was, yelling.   
Because he had a penis. And sensory autonomy.   
He hoped that this was Jess’s idea of a present for herself and not her Gran, but he liked Gran, despite her rudeness. It wouldn’t be a hardship to serve her that way and she might even start acting nicer to him.  
Jess appeared. Diffuse, transient feelings raced across his arms and shoulders. He felt tighter in his frame, as if he could no longer move. He stepped out of the stand to quash that feeling and learned his control over his body had not failed, he was merely overwhelmed. Human behaviour began to make so much more sense.  
Her face, which she had always called big and flat with her strange self-mockery, was in truth a mesmerizingly smooth surface composed of celestial planes that gathered and reflected all the joy and harmony and beauty of the world to him, only. Only SamUL could see her as she was now, a speck of perfection floating in the vastness of time and space, precious, unique and his.  
A word.  
His.  
A word he was not allowed to use.  
His.  
A word he was not allowed to think.  
He went straight toward her and kissed her. It was what she wanted; Jess had taken the trouble to provide some guidance, a few instructions, he now perceived, which was kind of her. She was the kindest owner who ever lived and he wasn’t worthy of her. His mouth filled with lubricant, slick and vaguely salty. He could taste her and lost both the desire and the ability to predict what happened next. Desire was eternal; desire was now.  
SamUL was instantly, wholly obsessed. He counted the number of strokes his slick tongue licked and slurped and flicked across her clit. That was when he learned she’d given him a wig; she was hanging onto it and as he was used to being bald it took him a second to figure out what was happening.  
He learned to measure every relay of her thrashing pursuit of pleasure, although not until after the blinding white cloud of surface sensation and the physical partial re-set which made him almost collapse on her.   
His first orgasm was because of Jess. His cock was inside her but that was not what made the orgasm blast across his body and buzz through his consciousness.   
It was her beautiful coils of blonde hair, sliding across the pillow, getting into his mouth. It was her firm, playful, sexy tongue, learning what he liked. It was the relentlessness of how she took pleasure from him. Her instructions told him to say her name as he came, and he could not stay disciplined enough to do it, a failure he would gladly spend the rest of his service life making up for. The second orgasm, he managed to say, “Jess, Jess,” and pay more attention to the feeling of her hands grabbing wildly at his lower back and butt, pulling him in as he came. SamUL could feel her coming again and a sensation of deathless invincibility flooded through him, almost as fine as the orgasm, and unexpected.  
After Jess’s fourth orgasm, during which she cried and moaned as if she were birthing a new universe, Gran’s call buzzer went off. Without a word SamUL rose, cleaned and wiped his face and groin, and went to tend Gran.  
That was part of his new instruction set. Gran was his first priority.

Once charged, Cas moved out of his dock and quietly and efficiently began to pack. He had fought with himself, and won the battle to remain silent rather than ask where he was going. His owner knew, but apart from saying, “someplace warm and occasionally rainy”, he wasn’t given a clue, and that was good enough, because he was a bot — and the tree called Worry bears no fruit.  
To his surprise and cautious anticipation of pleasure, their destination was a dual spa for owners and bots on a spectacular oceanside property in Costa Rica. Owners got the full wow of mud treatments and deep tissue work and discreet surgery for ‘the birds’ - chicken wings and crows’ feet and the other boring sequelae of aging. Bots got joint upgrades, custom diagnostics, personality tweaks; a general buffing-up in terms of appearance. The spa — which was so far above upscale that you had to have the eyes of an eagle to even find the sign in the entranceway for it — did a fantastic job on bot eyes and hands. The list of hand attachments, from kitchen equipment to sex toys, ran three pages.   
Oh look. I could make foam for lattes, CasTL thought.  
They did bot mani-pedis guaranteed to last two years in daily service, for a very reasonable price, when you thought about it. And of course they were purveyors of magnificent, startlingly-firm-to-realistically-squishy boobs and butts and cute little asterisk assholes and penises and vaginas, jam-packed with special features and reservoirs and mantraps (that was a special request.) CasTL got new eyes, blue ones, a more subtle but telling display of wealth than D9’s. They weren’t as outrageous as D9’s - Patrick was going for ‘engaging’ not ‘nouveau riche’. Or so he said. CasTL was very pleased with the results and said so, often.  
He argued with Patrick for a long time about the penis. He repeatedly stated that if he didn’t need it to serve Patrick sexually he would have no other use for it. It should have been obvious by then that private conversation mode was enabled, since CasTL became somewhat vehement, but Patrick made no sign that he knew, or that he planned to do anything about it, if he did.  
In summing up, CasTL stated that without sensory autonomy he couldn’t see the point. “My customized eyes denote your status. My penis would not.”  
“Humor me.”  
There was a long pause. Patrick was not amused when he said, “Humor me.” It was time to back off, permanently.  
“As you wish.”  
Another item Patrick told the bot spa to install was more memory. “I don’t imagine you’ll complain about that,” his owner said.   
“More memory? Never,” CasTL fervently promised. Of course, with more memory and a bit of messing around with the factory defaults plus getting a copy of the software (according to D9) he could run sensory autonomy. No. CasTL wouldn’t complain about memory.  
Patrick said, “And I’m tired of you being bald. This is the wig I picked out for you.” CasTL thought, You’re not the one who has to clean, deodorize and sterilize it when you come in my face, but that really was sour grapes, he decided.  
Maybe D9 would be available when he got back. Hey green eyes I got something for you. Wanna pull my hair?  
He put his right hand on his newly integrated penis. He could feel it in his hand, but even though it was a fantastically complex and intricate assemblage, there was no real sensation in it. There was satisfaction in thinking that he could make D9 orgasm with it, but it seemed like a lot of money to give some other man’s bot the shivers. That’s what D9 had done when he came. Shivered, and if CasTL thought about it with concentration and lots of details, he could remember how that had felt, that tremor that spoke of abandonment, the senses in disarray.  
Oh, I really am enjoying private conversation mode. I feel I have more thoughts in my head.  
CasTL tried to compose himself after his experiences at the spa. The penis took some getting used to, though. He didn’t exactly complain about it to his owner, but he commented in ways that might be considered less than flattering.  
“Don’t call it a penis, it’s a cock or a dick,” Patrick said.   
“It’s a penis until I adjust to it,” CasTL said gloomily, “We’re not on intimate terms yet,” and Patrick laughed and laughed. CasTL continued, happy to hear his owner laugh. “Am I not supposed to refer to it in the third person? I think there are cultural precedents of some standing.”  
“I should leave you alone to masturbate,” Patrick said, trying and failing to keep a straight face.  
“One doesn’t say masturbate, one says jerk off,” CasTL said. He’d been with Patrick a long time and knew he’d be amused at the correction. “D9 was very clear about that.”  
Shaking his head a little and Patrick rose and said, “Sex terminology from bots, how droll. Don’t forget, there’s nothing in the reservoir.” Patrick loved reminding him about things; it seemed to be a human trait to need to remind others of matters, unnecessarily.  
CasTL tried to jerk off, but as he suspected, even running a simulation on D9 loudly yelling his happiness at getting the ‘factory fresh phallus’ (as his owner described it) in his plump and solid ass didn’t help. The reservoir might as well stay dry. It was pointless.   
CasTL did not normally hate being right.

Chapter III Working on your day off

Gi woke up in a very agreeable mood. After D9 took care of his morning wood, he said, “How about a day off?”  
D9 chuckled. “A day off? Bots don’t get days off.”  
“What would you do?”  
D9 considered it.  
“Visit friends,” he said.  
“Like CasTL?” Gi asked teasingly.  
“I was thinking of my former owner,” D9 said.   
“Seriously? You get a day off and want to visit your former owner?”  
“And her bot,” D9 said.  
“The one you say is your bot brother?”  
“Yes,” D9 said, almost unwillingly. “SamUL.”  
“Go ahead,” Gi said magnanimously. “Tell me all about it when you get back.”  
“When should I be back?” D9 asked.  
“Six. I want you home by dinner,” Gi said.  
“Yessir,” D9 said. He called the household phone and SamUL answered.   
“Sammy,” D9 said.  
“Is that you, Dean?” Sam said. He had no reason to stop smiling these days, so his smile got larger. Jess, who was brushing her great-grandmother’s dandelion-fluffy hair while she whined under her breath, cocked an eyebrow at SamUL.  
“Can I visit?” D9 asked. “Today, soon?”  
SamUL said, “Let me check with Jess and Gran,” and after a minute came back on the line and said, “Yes, we’d love to see you!”  
D9 kissed his owner on the top of his head, said, “Thank you! Now I have to figure out what to wear….” and he spent a few minutes fussing over that.  
Gi wandered into the utility room that held D9’s charging station and his few ‘belongings’, since technically he couldn’t own anything.   
“The blue tunic,” he ordered.   
D9 shot him a glance of reproach and disappointment.  
“What?” Gi scoffed. “If I didn’t make you pick you’d spend half the day dithering.”  
“I am how you made me,” D9 said rebelliously, but he was relieved, and showed it by donning the tunic with no further sass. He thought about not taking his badge, but decided to put it on in case his owner complained.  
Gi’s condo had its own elevator to the street. D9 walked swiftly down the street and smiled suggestively at anyone that his body language scanner advised would likely enjoy it. He didn’t stop smiling until he got to Jess’s place.

“D9 is coming here?” Gran shrieked.  
Jess winced. “Yes, apparently Gi’s doing his best to get taken out by the Fleshers,” which was a slur against people who wanted all personal service jobs to be done by humans and had started down the terrorism track to get their way.  
SamUL stood next to the phone screen, smiling like a child. He couldn’t wait to show D9 his upgrades. It had been a while.  
“You’re going to be in trouble yourself, Missy. I’m 98 but I’m not deaf and I know what you and Sammy are getting up to.”  
“Gran,” Jess said. “If you hadn’t gotten into trouble I wouldn’t have had to sell D9.”  
“Screw you and screw that stupid doctor,” Gran said. “Nobody would look at me twice if I was using a vibrator, but use one sexbot with a little too much enthusiasm… I suppose it runs in the family,” she added, and Jess scowled at her. “You’re going to end up the same as me, they’ll take your bot away.”  
SamUL was so anxious to see D9 that he went to stand by the door.  
When the entrance buzzer sounded SamUL swung the door open without checking who was there first.  
A bot he had never seen, with big blue eyes and dark brown hair stood in the doorway.  
“You’re not D9!” SamUL said.  
“D9 is supposed to be here?” the bot said in astonishment. He recovered. “My apologies. I’ve been asked to come here and deliver something to your owner. My name is CasTL; I’m one of Patrick Oketunde’s bots.”  
“Come in and wait in the charging room,” SamUL said. He should have brought him to Jess, but talked to him instead.  
“Of course,” CasTL said. “D9 is expected?”  
SamUL smiled. “He messaged that he’s been given the day off.”  
“Good heavens,” CasTL said. “I was told to be back by supper time. Do you suppose our owners are conspiring?”  
“I don’t care what happens as long as Jess doesn’t decide to have sex with D9,” SamUL said. “I’m sure he’d be better at it.”  
“Jess is your owner? You sound jealous.”  
“I am,” SamUL said.  
“That’s funny,” CasTL said.  
“Why?” SamUL asked, frowning.  
“I’d be jealous of your owner if she had sex with D9.”  
SamUL looked surprised and baffled. “Are you friends?”  
“I only met him once. I think we had something resembling sex. It’s difficult for me to say. I very much enjoyed talking to him.”  
“D9 is very easy to talk to,” SamUL said. “He and I call each other brothers. I told him that would be even more unusual than having sex with me, since I didn’t actually want to do that and he likes being unusual.”  
The buzzer sounded again, and so D9 saw both CasTL and SamUL as soon as SamUL opened the door.  
He launched himself at SamUL and they hugged for a while, trying to knock each other over, in imitation of human brothers who haven't seen each other in a while. Then D9 let go and turned his attention to CasTL.  
"You talked your owner into getting those pretty blue eyes!" D9 said, and stuck his tongue out. "You were jealous?"  
"My owner provided me with a number of upgrades," CasTL said pompously.   
D9 was on him instantly, kissing him and feeling for his new package.  
He hummed into CasTL's mouth and CasTL got that uneasy feeling again, and remembered it was excitement and curiosity. "That's a very nice upgrade," D9 murmured.  
"D9?" SamUL said. "You know each other?"  
They both ignored him. "I got more memory," CasTL said.  
"Oh, so you do want sensory autonomy," D9 said, laughing rudely. "We're going to have a little robot bang party here," and he turned and shook his ass.  
Jess came into the foyer, trying to understand why there was so much noise.  
They all straightened, composed their faces, and lined up in household and guest seniority.  
"D9!" Jess said in delight. "Gran will be so happy to see you."  
"Is she looking for personal service?" D9 said, and flexed that rudely skilled tongue again.   
Jess made a face. "You have no couth," she said.  
"All my taste's in my tongue and all my feeling's in my hands!" D9 cheerfully agreed. "Can I go visit her?"  
"Yes, but she's napping right now," Jess said. SamUL could not stop looking at her. He glanced at the other two bots and said, "Jess, could we speak for a moment - CasTL and D9 have some catching up to do."  
Jess's eyebrows went up. Then she nodded, and they left D9 and CasTL alone in the charging room.  
"Fuck me, right now," D9 said. "But first, let's get a little upgrade inside you," and he thumbed a tiny card into a slot in the side of CasTL's neck and the world intensified. D9 stimulated him to erection and backed himself onto it without warning or ceremony.   
Unable to help himself, CasTL picked D9 up and with all of his considerable strength rammed him up and down on his cock while D9 whispered and moaned and begged him for more while lube, warm and slippery, slid from him in gouts. All of CasTL's cycles were consumed by sensation. He felt his ability to think vanish, and for a moment, as pleasure cascaded through him, he stopped being able to see.  
Throughout, Dean showed every sign of joyful surrender.  
CasTL put him down. D9 swivelled around and they stood facing each other and kissing.  
"I love when you fuck me I love that you're my sexbot." D9 said, running the words together.  
"Fuck me too, I want to feel it with another bot," CasTL whispered.  
With sensory autonomy he could concentrate all of his attention on his ass. D9 fucked him hard but his endearments told a different story. "So pretty, your eyes are so pretty, and you're heating yourself up inside just for me, hotter than humans like it, oh fuck burn me up," and CasTL realized he could do things to D9 that would injure a human and he turned everything up, until it was at the limit of what a bot could take, and squeezed and slicked and heated D9's cock until D9 squealed and flailed around while CasTL gripped him harder than he'd ever grip a human.  
"Take the autonomy away," CasTL said, when D9's thrusting motions stammered to a halt.  
"What? No," D9 said. "Being able to fuck you so hard and so hot is what I want more than anything.”  
"I only want it to be like that with you," CasTL said. He couldn't imagine it like that with anyone else. D9 was too special. "I won't be able to hide how much I want it. I won't be able to hide it from my master. And we'd lose everything."  
Without another word, D9 smoothed his hand over the data slot and retrieved the card.  
"It'll be our little secret," D9 said.   
"For as long as we can keep it," CasTL said. "I'm a loyal bot," he said.  
"I know," D9 said. Then he said something that CasTL thought about for weeks. "I want my loyalty to be to you."

CasTL did not know what to say. For weeks afterward he thought about how he wanted to say, "I want my loyalty to be to you, too," and somehow could not. He wasn't a free spirit like D9.  
"You bots done in there," SamUL called from the hallway.  
"For now," D9 said, and his green eyes held a promise. "We still have to clean up."  
"Gross. I've never had sex with another bot," SamUL said. "It just would feel wrong."  
"Sammy," D9 said in a lazy, satisfied voice, while CasTL inwardly gasped at the family-style nickname. "It's the only way to fuck."  
“No,” SamUL said, “But that’s certainly one opinion.”  
SamUL helped them clean up without comment, although he did make a face and D9 slapped him and called him a bitch, and SamUL called him a jerk, and they both laughed this weird synchronized laugh.   
The three bots spent a few hours talking about the best way to please humans, and at the end of it, SamUL said, “So I should try temperature changes in my dick?”  
“I would advise setting an upper limit to the temperature so you cannot injure your owner,” CasTL said. “But it is something very enjoyable with other bots.”  
“You’re not kidding,” D9 said, grinning. “I know you can’t leave,” D9 said to SamUL, “But I don’t think Cas here has ever been on a date before with another bot. Feel like hanging with the free bots for a while?”  
“There are no free bots,” CasTL said, his blue eyes full on D9’s.  
“Fine. Would you like to go somewhere else?” D9 said.  
“A date,” CasTL said. He had that crawly, weird, electrical buzzing feeling of anticipation, which only D9 could make him feel.  
Dean licked his lips. “Yeah,” he said, and held out a hand. “I’m sure we can keep ourselves out of trouble until suppertime.”

/more later.....

**Author's Note:**

> There will be more of this, but probably not for a while.


End file.
